The Writer's Group - Reprise

We chew our gum ever so politely

and stick it under our seats

When it's time to share our piece

Mine is about trees... again

Willows with wilting leaves 

and poplars happily chatting away

I can pull out a tree metaphor

Faster than a weed

But today is different

As the circle goes around,

I crumple up my pretty perfect words

and turn to the lost and found section 

Of my notebook 

Here the words are murky and leave

an ugly residue 

They're the thoughts I've buried in my head

I'm not proud to share

But even the oldest wounds needs some air

and as I let it bleed 

I'm closest thing to a tree than I'll ever be